but plant your hope with good seeds
by alinaandalion
Summary: Now that their sort-of family is expanding, they need to make sure no enemies from the past can use them as leverage. Pairing: Eliot/Parker/Hardison


_Two Months_

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," Parker says as she flings herself across the couch.

Eliot pushes her legs off the cushions and sits down beside her. "With the way those two go at it, it can't be that big of a surprise."

"Still, you'd think they would have the sense to use some sort of protection," Hardison remarks, sinking into the nearest armchair, rubbing at his eyes. "Unless you think they planned it?"

"Of course not," Parker replies with a snort. "Sophie doesn't want a kid."

"Well, she's getting one." Eliot pulls Parker's legs up into his lap, squeezing the inside of her thigh. "She'll have to sort through all that in the next nine months."

"I just can't believe it." Hardison grins and shakes his head. "We're really going to have a little kid running around here."

Parker rolls her eyes. "It doesn't come out and start running, Hardison. And, anyway, what will this mean for the job?"

"If Sophie has her way, she'll keep grifting until that baby pops out. Nate, however…" Eliot grimaces. "I'm not looking forward to those fights."

"Well, this is boring." Parker twists her body and straddles Eliot's lap.

She kisses him slowly and pulls back with a smile when his fingers drift higher up her thigh, his other hand pressing at the small of her back.

Eliot looks over her shoulder at Hardison. "Are you just going to sit on your ass or are you joining us?"

Hardison smirks and stretches languidly, his eyes darkening as Parker grinds a little against Eliot and tips her head back to watch Hardison walk towards them.

"Can't let the two of you have all the fun," he murmurs, leaning over Parker and pulling Eliot into a deep kiss.

* * *

It isn't until the three of them are lying in bed, their bodies a mess of sweaty, tangled limbs, that Parker stretches out completely and tucks her body against Hardison, pulling Eliot with her so that he's half on top of her.

"So, do you think the baby will be safe?" she wonders out loud, her gaze drifting to the ceiling while Hardison traces a lazy pattern on her hip.

"What do you mean?" Hardison's lips land on her neck and suck at the skin there; he's always ready for a second round most nights, and Parker shifts in his grasp to let him continue his gentle exploration.

Her eyes flick to Eliot's face because he's the one she can count on to always pick up on her flares of paranoia.

"Hard to say," Eliot murmurs, lacing his fingers through Hardison's hand so that they're both pressing their hands into her hip. "We've collected a lot of enemies."

The specter of Latimer and Dubenich, Jimmy Ford's death, and the sudden move to Portland still hangs over them all, and Parker wrinkles her nose and squirms against the twisting of her stomach.

"Do we really have to worry about any of them coming after us like that, though?" Hardison replies as the crease in his forehead deepens. "I mean, Dubenich was kind of obsessed. Would anyone else really be able to pull that off? Or want to?"

Eliot snorts. "You're an idiot. Anyone we've ruined would be that obsessed. Only good thing is we've managed to disappear before they can put all the pieces together, so they don't have enough information to work with."

"So who would we have to worry about?" Hardison drifts his hand over to run through Eliot's tangled hair.

"Moreau."

Parker shudders a little at the dark tone of Eliot's voice and murmurs, "He's in jail, Eliot. We beat him. It's over."

"It won't be over until he's dead."

Hardison withdraws slightly from Eliot and returns to stroking along Parker's pale skin. "Chaos could be a problem as well. He's already tried to kill Sophie once."

"I don't really have any enemies," Parker says softly. "What about Sophie? We don't know much about her past."

"And we know that part of it was dangerous," Eliot muses, drifting back closer to Parker.

"How do we know that?" Hardison raises his eyebrows. "Because I sure as hell ain't ever heard her talk about her past except to tell us to keep our noses out of it."

"She's friends with Tara who is a very dangerous woman, and Sophie has a lot of shady connections she can pull with no problem, even after four years of being outside that world. What does that tell you?"

Hardison heaves an irritated sigh. "Why we even talking about this? I was really into enjoying some nice afterglow."

Parker laughs and cranes her neck so she can press a light kiss to his nose. "We never enjoy the afterglow, whatever that is. We either sleep or have more sex."

"This is afterglow, girl."

"It's not very interesting if you're not _doing_ something."

Eliot groans. "We can talk about this later."

"You hard again?" Hardison props himself up on an elbow and smirks. "Can't wait to fuck us again?"

Parker slips a hand in between each of their legs and strokes upward, her mouth curling into a pleased smile. "You can't, either."

Then Eliot thrusts two fingers inside her, and she tips her head back at the wave of pleasure.

* * *

Parker leans over Eliot's shoulder and swipes a strawberry from the bowl to his right; he's too busy flipping pancakes to swat her away, and she grins at him. This is their morning ritual now. They set off as a group and take over Nate's kitchen for breakfast. Eliot cooks, Parker bothers him, and Hardison plays with his computers on the couch, or most days, he falls back asleep.

Hardison is currently snoring quietly on the couch, and she catches Eliot looking in that direction with an affectionate expression on his face, which is a rare moment. She takes a few seconds to savor the warmth expanding in her chest and scoots a little further back on the counter so her feet aren't dangling in front of the drawers.

"So, enemies." She crosses her legs and leans forward, her face growing serious. "Do you want to start a list and work our way through it?"

"You're pretty serious about this." Eliot is only half-paying attention to her at the moment while he lays out thick-cut bacon in an iron skillet, the fat sizzling when it hits the heat.

Parker shrugs. "Was going to happen sooner or later. Might as well be now."

"You know Nate and Sophie won't like it."

"They can get over it. It's not like we're going on a mass murdering spree." Parker rolls her eyes and leans to her left to grab the bag of gummy frogs Hardison left out the night before. "Like, with Chaos, we could probably just threaten him and be done."

"That's not going to work with everyone."

"I know."

"Which means I'll be doing this on my own."

Eliot turns around before she can respond to prod at the shriveling bacon, and she throws a handful of frogs at his back in outrage.

"No way! This is my idea!"

"This isn't a game, Parker," Eliot says in a low voice. "We're talking about something completely different from the job. I can't let you and Hardison get involved in it."

"It still isn't fair," she mutters. "You shouldn't have to do it all alone."

"What, are you saying you want blood on your hands?" He shifts around so he can glare at her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"No. But you don't like hurting people."

His eyes soften a little, and she lets her shoulders fall from their defensive hunched position.

"You know what you're asking to do?"

She sets her mouth in a firm line. "I was the one who suggested it."

He nods his head and then frowns at the sight of the bag in her hands. "You're not going to want breakfast."

She shoves a handful into her mouth and grins around them, struggling to say, "I'm always hungry."

He raises an eyebrow at her muffled words and looks like he's about to reply when they both hear a faint moan. Parker glances at Hardison even though he doesn't really do anything more than snore when he sleeps, but then she hears it again along with a very distinctive thump.

"Are they really…" She lets her voice trail off as she gestures to the ceiling.

"Probably." He turns back to the stove, muttering something along the lines of, "Like fucking rabbits."

She laughs, and Hardison sits up, rubbing at his eyes and freezing when he catches the sounds that are increasing in volume and intensity.

"Seriously?" He shudders and makes his way over to the kitchen. "Are they for real getting it on right now? Because that's sick, man. Just sick."

"We are in their apartment," Eliot points out.

Hardison makes a move to grab a fresh pancake, and Eliot slaps his hand away with a spatula.

"Need to chill," Hardison grumbles, settling for sitting beside Parker on the counter and munching on some gummy frogs. "They do know we come over in the morning."

"It's just sex." Parker shrugs and snatched the frogs away from Hardison. "We do it all the time."

"I know. But, it's Nate. And Sophie. Doing it. Making love. Fucking…"

"We get the picture," Eliot finally snarls. "It's not like you didn't know they were sleeping together."

Hardison gestures wildly with his hands. "Objectively, sure. I never wanted to know what they sound like. Just wrong."

"Right. So, Parker, list?"

* * *

_Three Months_

When Parker walks into Nate's apartment, she's really hoping that Sophie will be off somewhere else. She's disappointed, though, when she sees Sophie curled up on the couch reading a book.

"Are you looking for someone?" Sophie glances up from her book and gives her a smile. "Because I'm here by myself."

"No. I want to talk to you." Parker forces herself to walk over to the couch and sit stiffly on the end opposite of Sophie. "I have a question."

Sophie marks the page she was reading and puts the book to the side. "Well, ask away."

The words get stuck on the way out of Parker's mouth, though, so she stares at the pattern of the hardwood floor as she tries to get her thoughts in order. She doesn't want to be doing this, but Eliot and Hardison are off on a hunt for Chaos which means she's been left to get information out of Sophie.

According to Eliot, Parker will have the easiest time of it since she won't, as he put it, "come at her sideways." Parker still doesn't know what that means.

"Parker?" Sophie arches an eyebrow and scoots a little closer, her hand falling unconsciously to her slowly rounding abdomen.

Parker shakes her head and blurts out, "Do you have any enemies?"

Sophie blinks, and her hand presses a little harder against her stomach like the mention of the word makes her want to protect the small life growing inside her. Parker just waits for an answer, pulling her shoulders up higher and retreating in on herself.

"One, from a long time ago," Sophie finally answers in a soft voice.

"What's his name?"

"Why do you want to know all this?"

"Eliot does." She squirms a little with the lie, but she sticks to it. "It's a just-in-case thing. Nothing important."

"Don't lie to me, Parker," Sophie warns as she narrows her eyes.

Parker tries to school her expression into an innocent one. "I'm not."

From the look on Sophie's face, Parker isn't succeeding very well so she decides the best idea might be to bolt.

She's halfway off the couch when Sophie says, "Victor Dolohov."

"A Russian?" Parker asks as she turns back to face Sophie.

Sophie nods her head and sighs. "It was a long time ago, but of all the people I might have pissed off, he's the only one who would probably still come after me."

"There isn't anyone else?"

"No. Now, why do you want to know?"

"Like I said," Parker replies as she looks anywhere but at Sophie's eyes.

"Right."

"Okay, so I have to go." Parker gives her a small smile and hits the ground running before she can give their plans away.

She has a name for Eliot, which is what she needs; hopefully Sophie won't decide to press for more information.

* * *

_Five Months_

Parker stumbles into their small hotel bathroom, and Eliot follows after her. She runs hot water in the bathtub, her hands trembling as she thrusts them under the flow, scrubbing at the dried blood on her fingers.

"Hey, don't." Eliot jerks her back from the tub and turns on some cold water. "You'll burn yourself."

She looks up at him with hollow eyes and goes limp in his grasp. He sighs and starts stripping off her clothes, grimacing at the amount of blood that's soaked through to her skin. Thankfully, none of it is hers.

"Your first kill is always hard," he says softly while he struggles with the button of her jeans. "Taking human life…"

"Then how can you do it?" Her voice cracks, but her eyes are still dry.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Gets easier, just like anything else."

He finally pulls her jeans off her legs, and he lifts her gently into the tub. She reaches for him when he starts to stand up.

"You need to get clean, too," she murmurs. As he starts taking his clothes off, she says, "It was good that we didn't bring Hardison. No reason to spread the curse to him."

"It's not always a curse." He climbs into the tub behind her and encircles her gently in his arms. "This, yes, it's not good. But doing what needs to be done ain't always bad, sweetheart."

"I expected…"

"For there to be less screaming?"

She smiles a little at that and shakes her head, tracing her fingers lightly along his arm. "To care less."

He presses a kiss to the back of her head. "Yeah, I know."

He grabs a rag and soaps it up; he rubs it along her arms and watches the washed away blood tint the water pink. She shudders at the sight and squirms closer to him as he keeps washing her body.

"They'll be wondering where we are soon," Parker murmurs.

"We'll go home tomorrow morning."

"You've been complaining about the lumpy bed."

"And?"

"You've missed Hardison."

He can just see the upward curve of her mouth. "No, I ain't. Bed is just lumpy. Can't sleep on it."

"You mean you can't sleep without Hardison with us," she teases.

"You're crazy."

She shifts in his grasp so she can face him, her hands pressing against his chest. "Maybe." She leans closer and grins shyly. "I've missed him, too."

"We won't tell him that." Eliot steals a kiss and flattens his palm along the curve of her spine. "Wouldn't want him to get a big head."

She nuzzles into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin as she says, "You're going to take care of Moreau by yourself, aren't you?"

He stiffens and pulls her a little closer, sweeping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Yeah. You going to try to stop me?"

She lifts her head and looks him the eyes, her face harder than that morning, lined with the memories of what they've done. "No."

He nods once and pulls her down for a kiss, his fingers already slipping down between her legs, and her breathy sigh of contentment makes the guilt in his stomach retreat just a little bit.

* * *

_Seven Months_

Moreau doesn't look surprised when Eliot swings the cell door open, but he supposes he wouldn't be surprised if the tables were turned.

"You're here to kill me." Moreau doesn't even bother getting up from where he's lounging on the narrow bed.

"Yeah." Eliot shuts the cell door and eases into a comfortable defensive stance in case Moreau makes any sudden moves.

Moreau notices and snorts. "I'm not going to attack you. I couldn't win in any fight against you, anyway."

Eliot smiles a little. "True. How has prison treated you?"

"About as well as can be expected. I was planning on being out this time next year. Which is why I assume you've showed up."

"Sorry to ruin your plans, but you would come after us."

Moreau sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "Fair enough. Flores know you're down here?"

Eliot ducks his head and sighs; Moreau just smirks.

"Thought not. I never understood what you like so much about him."

"He's a good man," Eliot replies softly.

"Because that's such a beneficial trait." Moreau shakes his head. "The white hat has made you pathetic, my friend. So, if you're still with the same team, why are you going to kill me now?"

"I have to protect my family."

"Oh, a baby. Your bastard?"

"Nate's kid."

Moreau nods his head. "Does he know you're here?"

"What do you think?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'." Moreau stands up and stretches. "Well, are you ever going to do something? I think I'm a big enough target, right?"

Eliot reaches into his pocket and pulls out the syringe of poison he smuggled into the country. Moreau's eyes widen at the sight; Eliot actually hates using poison because it feels like the coward's way out, but he can't really bring himself to blow Moreau's head off.

For all of their bloody history together, Eliot still likes him. And that says more about Eliot than he wants anyone to know.

"How quick will it be?" Moreau backs away from him.

Eliot pushes his roiling emotions away and says, "Quick. Shouldn't suffer more than a minute."

Moreau nods and extends his arm, rolling up his sleeve. The quiet dignity rubs Eliot the wrong way, but he knows that it doesn't matter; he came here to go do a job, and he's going to finish it. He places the needle against Moreau's arm and slides it gently under the skin, pushing the plunger.

When Eliot pulls the needle out, Moreau stumbles back, the tremors already starting in his hands and legs. Eliot grabs him and helps him to the bed, laying him back against the pillow.

"I hope your family stays safe," Moreau murmurs with a smirk.

"They will."

Eliot lays his hand on Moreau's arm and watches his eyes fall closed, the last breath puff past his lips. Eliot crosses Moreau's arms over his chest and walks stiffly out of the cell, making sure to pull the door closed behind him.

He has the latest flight available out of San Lorenzo, and he can't wait to get home to Parker's excitement and Hardison's nervous energy, to leave the last remnants of his past here and start looking forward.

* * *

_Twelve Months_

Eliot cuddles the baby closer to his chest and dangles his finger in her little hands' reach. "You like your Uncle Eliot the best, right, Clara?"

She looks up at him with her dark eyes as she grabs hold of his finger and puts it in her mouth, gumming down on it intently. He chuckles and relaxes back against the couch. Hardison and Parker left an hour earlier to go to the grocery store, and while normally he never lets them go unsupervised, he wants to spend some time with Clara, especially since Nate and Sophie are out for the evening.

"We're back," Hardison announces as they walk in the door. "Clara still breathing?"

Parker bounces over and eyes Eliot and the baby suspiciously. "You didn't let her play with Bunny, did you?"

Eliot shakes his head and reluctantly hands Clara over to Parker. "No. I learned my lesson."

"Because Bunny doesn't like the drooling," Parker replies, retreating away from the couch so Eliot can't take Clara back.

"What did you get?" Eliot asks as he walks into the kitchen.

Hardison looks up from a bag filled with gummy frogs. "Um, stuff."

Eliot groans. "Go play with the baby. I'll make some supper."

Hardison grabs a bag of the frogs on his way out.

"Don't feed those to the baby," Eliot calls after him.

Hardison just waves his hand dismissively as he rounds the corner, and he hears Parker's burst of laughter as he grins. Just as he thought, Parker and Hardison did not bring back one useful item of food, but he has some lasagna frozen for occasions like this. An extra plus is that Parker believes his lasagna has been sent from heaven, and he normally has to pry the pan out of her hands.

He sneaks a look at the pair with Clara; Parker is making faces at the baby while Hardison has launched into an explanation about the finer points of something geeky. Eliot's smile broadens as he pulls the freezer open.


End file.
